Losing my Religion
by Merisha
Summary: Some people are just as evil as demons - Sam and Dean find out the hard way.
1. Chapter 1

**Losing my religion**

By Merisha

**Synopsis**: Some people are as evil as demons … Sam and Dean find out the hard way.

**Note:** Hi guys … I'm back … scary I know ;0) – this fic is written in multiple POV's starting with Dean – enjoy!

**P.S:** For those of you following my comic book version of "All I want for Christmas" – keep an eye open for new panels on my homepage ;0)

**Warning: Mild Language**

**Dean's POV**

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Sweat is running in rivulets down my neck, tickling a path down my spine. Shit it's hot. It's been a sweltering day which turned into an unpleasantly humid evening. I wipe my hand across my dripping brow, good thing I left my jacket in the car. I look over at Sammy, he's just as hot, his drenched t-shirt is clinging to his torso like a second skin. 

We're crouching behind the wall on the ground floor of this two story abandoned house. Sammy checks his weapon again, we need to find the missing kids quickly, time is running out. The bastard we've been hunting somehow got it into his thick skull that he's Lucifer's "chosen-one". If I had a dime for every nutter out there …I swallow the lump that's made a permanent home in my throat. Apparently the voices in this creeps head are telling him to purge the world of pure and innocent souls … and having a scared child die in your arms because of it, should never happen to anyone. I blink irritably as my eyes mist up. Rage blossoms in my chest again, making me shake slightly as the images resurface, only reinforcing my resolve to get this bastard … I grip my gun tighter.

Four dead children and two states later we caught up with him. There was evidence of sulphur at the crime scenes; almost convincing us that we were chasing a demon, but turns out it's just this mentally disturbed SOB who has a penchant for chemistry. It seems his goal is to bring Beelzebub into the land of the living. He can go ahead and try … but it's not gonna happen if I have anything to do with it. I seriously hate disturbed assholes like this, more than I hate the creatures we hunt… there is enough shit in the world without the likes of 'Lenny Mason' wanting to join in the forces of evil. He kidnaps siblings to use in his sick ceremonies ... I try again to block out the memories, steeling myself for the job ahead … need to keep my wits about me. I promised these kids mom that I'd bring them home alive. I intend to keep that promise.

"Sammy, do you see him?"

"Nope … I'm going to check the basement ..." he looks at me worriedly, "… you okay with this?"

I nod my head. The plan is for Sammy to find the missing kids while I neutralize any threat from our 'Damien' wannabe.

Gun at the ready I slowly start climbing the stairs, turning with professional ease to gauge any possible points of attack from above. Just as I near the top, the third last step creaks, the sound echoing through the empty house. I freeze. Freegin hell. Now Lenny knows exactly where I am.

"Shit."

I clear the last few steps in one long stride and swivel around, trying to catch a glimpse of my prey. A light at the end of the passage draws my attention so I slowly make my way forward, careful to check all the darkened rooms and corners, just in case. Gun pointed directly in front of me, ready to fire, I quickly angle around the corner, coming face to face with a grinning Lenny who is standing dead still in the middle of the candle lit room. My skin crawls. There's a head of a ram drawn roughly in a pentagram on the wooden floor, candles at every corner. He looks just like your average Joe, slightly overweight with a balding patch, he has a face you could trust … but I'm just itching to wipe that smirk off his face.

"I knew you'd come." He's voice is soft and pleasant, it makes me sick.

"Well that's good pal … wouldn't want to surprise you!"

My voice drips with venom. I ought to just kill this bastard now but Sam made me promise. Said we should hand this creature over to the authorities … unless I don't have choice. Shit … I hope he doesn't give me a choice. My little brother keeps reminding me that we're not vigilantes, we only kill supernatural monsters … but this guy is definitely a monster in my book. Sammy knows exactly how I feel about bastards who hurt kids … my finger twitches again.

I'm still hoping to use the "self defense" card, but Lenny just continues smiling at me, a demented look on his face. His eyes are glassy and I know it's going to be a tough job talking this lunatic into surrender. I keep my gun leveled on his face, if he makes a move, he's gonna have a permanent third eye.

"He told me you'd come … I'm not afraid."

"You know, its creeps like you who totally validate my inherent mistrust of strangers … but I tell you what … how about you call this demonic friend of yours … it will make it that much easier to waste him."

He chuckles hysterically as I glare at him.

"You? You couldn't kill him … he's too powerful … he's going to be the ruler of the earth … and I'll be at his right hand!"

I snort.

"Well I've got bad news for you bub … It's my sole job in life to kill every single evil supernatural SOB out there … so bring him on … I'm ready!"

He looks at me in panic, his beady eyes start darting around the room like he's not sure what to do next and a smirk plants itself on my face.

"No … no … that's not right … that's not what he told me …"

So much for not being afraid. He looks at the floor nervously.

"What should I do? … help me … I don't understand!" He's talking to himself … first sign of insanity. I chuckle humorlessly.

"I don't know what your problem is pal, but I'll bet it's really hard to pronounce."

He shakes his head, wringing his hands fretfully. This guy is so far gone … I don't think he could conjure up a dust bunny, never mind a demon.

"Looks like your friends kinda busy … maybe he'll come out to play another day … but in the meantime, how about you and I go find those nice guys in white coats with the padded cell? We'll get you some professional help … you could still lead a useful life as a number plate maker … nobody needs to get hurt!"

"NO! … he said that he'd come … he said he'd appear in flames …"

He looks around worriedly … then suddenly freezes, a strange expression on his face. He tilts his head to the side like he's listening to something ... probably those voices inside his head again.

I keep my eyes trained on him … he's really starting to make me edgy …I'm just hoping that Sammy's found those kids alive … taken them to safety. I need to get this nut job out of here, maybe I should just tackle him, doesn't look like he's got a weapon.

Lenny starts smiling again … his eyes drifting to the pentagram under his feet. I follow his gaze and my heart nearly stops. The pentagram … the lines … they're not drawn with charcoal, it looks powdery … shit … its gunpowder. It snakes away from the pentagram to where I'm standing and then down the passage. I automatically take a step back. Shit, why didn't I see that before? I quickly look up at Lenny; he's carefully pulling a small tube of clear liquid out of his pocket. Oh friggin hell! I know what it is before he even starts dropping it … nitro glycerin. My finger is pulling the trigger just as his foot knocks over the nearest candle. He's dead before he hits the floor but the gunpowder ignites and the place goes up in a huge ball of flame just as I dive down the passage, the earth shattering explosion throwing me back to land hard against the wall.

"Ow."

Okay, that hurt! I rub my head as I stagger to my wobbly feet, my ears are ringing ... there are flames everywhere … the bastard probably rigged this place to burn down to the ground. I slip my gun into my belt under my t-shirt. Need to get out of here fast before Sammy comes rushing in to find me.

I hear small explosions throughout the house as I dart past the flames licking at the walls, the heat searing my bare skin. I rush to the steps, black smoke is billowing up in waves and I can't see the floor. I run down them blindly, holding onto the wooden railing where I can, coughing as the suffocating smog fills my lungs. I can't even see my hand in front of my eyes through the blackness so I use my skilled sense of direction and hurtle towards where I know the door should be … bursting out onto the veranda and down the steps onto the lawn, coughing up a lung in the process.

Shit that was close. I gulp up the fresh air as I lean over my knees. I look up, searching for Sammy … but he's not here. My heart pounds in panic.

"SAMMY! SAMMY!"

I rush to the car, throwing the door open and slipping my gun under the seat … CRAP … no Sammy … no kids … my heart sinks as I turn to look at the flame engulfed house. Memories of the fire that stole our lives so long ago come back to haunt me … I hate fire.

"No … oh god … no!"

"Hey kid … you okay?"

I quickly turn to look at an old guy dressed in his nightgown and slippers, neighbors are pouring out of their houses to watch the show. He looks at me worriedly.

"Yeah … I'm fine, but there are people still trapped inside … in the basement … call 911!"

Sammy damnit. Why the hell isn't he out yet … it can only mean … he must be trapped, or worse … I'm running before I even realize it. The old guy is calling out for me to stop but I ignore him as I burst back through the door … need to get to my brother. Have to save him from the flames again, even if I die trying. Can barely see … can barely breathe. I pull my t-shirt up to cover my nose and mouth … it doesn't help … so much for my gun-ho tactics … but I'm not leaving until I find Sammy. I crouch and run, flames licking at the ceiling, my hand reaching out as I bump into the walls. I don't know where I'm going but I follow the direction I saw Sammy take. Every door I reach, I kick open and then duck for cover … I know about back-drafts but my fear for Sammy's safety outweighs my own. I'm coughing uncontrollably, black spots are dancing at the edges of my vision but I fight on, testing each doorway for steps that will lead me to the basement.

Then suddenly I hear it … gunshots … at the end of the passage. I run blindly, following the sound. A fiery beam is blocking the door and the ceiling is on the verge of caving in. With adrenalin fueled strength I push myself under the smoldering timber, yelling hoarsely as the flames lick through my t-shirt burning the material to my back. I manage to squeeze the door open slightly, forcing my tortured back through the gap just as the roof in the passage collapses. It's dark. I take a few tentative steps.

"Dean … is that you?"

"Sammy?"

"Watch out … the stairs …"

Sammy's warning comes one step to late as I fall through thin air to land hard on the rubble below.

"OUCH!"

"DEAN!! DEAN!!"

I start coughing and I hear Sammy feeling his way around. Seconds later his hands are running along my body checking for injuries. I try to catch my breath … knocked the wind right out of my sails. Its pitch black down here, except for a small amount of light shimmering in from a little window near the ceiling.

"DEAN! Speak to me, are you okay?"

"Yeah … think so … landing on my head … kinda broke my fall …" I cough painfully, I'm going to be one big bruise in the morning.

"Shit Dean … I'm sorry man … that asshole rigged the steps to collapse. I fell through when I came in, couldn't see anything … found the kids though, they were tied up but they seem unharmed … just the smoke is starting to get to them. I shot the window out … hopefully I didn't kill a fireman or something … cause' that would just be awkward."

… he stops to cough again ... I join him … it's unbearably friggin hot ...

"Did you find him?"

"Yeah … he's dead."

Sammy doesn't question me … he knows I had no choice.

" … help me up …"

He leans over to pull me to my shaky feet, a little hiss of pain passing his lips. His hand feels sticky, possibly blood.

"Sammy … you hurt?"

"Nothing serious."

Yeah right … but it's too damn dark in here to see the extent of the damage… I'll have to check him out thoroughly later. Cloudy black smoke is still billowing in as flames engulf the door above us. I can hear the crackling of burning timber everywhere. We need to get out of here now. This place is becoming a deadly inferno.

"Where are the kids?"

"They're just next to the window … I put an old carpet over them to block some of the smoke … and protect them from the glass."

I gasp painfully as the hot air scorches my throat … it's getting really hard to breathe down here. Sammy comes over with a large broken plank and starts breaking the remaining glass still jutting out of the frame. I reach down to pick up the carpet … I can hear the little ones whimpering. Can't see for shit but I manage to tap them soothingly on their small shoulders.

"You're gonna be okay … we'll get you out of here, alright?"

I can feel them nodding their heads as I throw the rug through the opening, creating a barrier against the razor sharp shards.

"Okay … let's go …"

We all start hacking in unison as the suffocating clouds billows out of our exit.

"Be … careful … "

Sammy manages to push the children through the window one at a time. I can hear them crying … I actually feel weak with relief … at least the kids are alright. Sammy bends down for me to get on his shoulders but I stop him. We're both coughing uncontrollably, my throat is on fire and my lungs are burning, but there's no way I'm going first.

"You go …"

"No Dean … you …"

We start wheezing again.

"Sam … listen to me … you're taller … you can … reach down … and pull … me up."

The roof starts creaking … there's no time to argue so he reluctantly climbs on my shoulders. I bite back a yell of pain as his knees press into my burnt back. I help push him up as he pulls himself through the small opening and disappears above me. The ceiling by the door finally caves in and a huge seething bank of fumes sucks the last of the oxygen out of the room. The blistering intensity of the fire brings tears to my eyes as I battle to inhale. I can hear Sam coughing above me.

"Dean ... grab … my … hands."

I reach up and instantly his hands clamp around my arms. I hold onto him as I try to push myself up … try to help … but every breath I take … is just a lung full … of sooty smog.

I'm choking … gagging … and my eyes are burning. I try to see through the heat … but everything's so dark … and I'm really not sure … if my eyes are open or closed anymore. Feel kinda dizzy as shadows start pulling at my consciousness.

"Just … hold on Dean!"

"Sammy …" my voice croaks as I gasp in another lung full of blackness … it hurts … feels like I'm swallowing red hot chunks of coal. My grip slackens as I hang limply … but Sammy's holding on to me for all his worth … he's the only thing keeping me from collapsing. I want to laugh … I'm just seconds away from fresh air … yet here I am dying from lack of oxygen.

I hear Sammy's frantic yells … he's straining to pull me up … can finally feel my body being hauled through the tight opening … vaguely hear a swoosh as the roof completely collapses … just as Sam pulls me free … Sammy … he's shouting my name … he sounds so far away …but … he's safe … I can finally give in ... to the shadows.

**_TBC_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** Thanks to everyone for the amazingly fantabulous reviews ;0) – you seriously keep me going!

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Sam's POV**

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The muscles in my neck are popping as I cling onto Dean. My arms feel like they're tearing out of their sockets, but there's no way in hell I'm losing the hold I have on my brother. As soon as he latched onto my arms I knew I had his life in my hands. He's hanging limply now, probably unconscious, the fear of losing him fuels my strength and I pull with all my might, screaming in exertion and pain. 

"… come on … come on …"

I finally manage to pull him free … collapsing back as I try to catch my breath, Dean lying lifelessly in my arms … god he looks dead ... I shake him slightly.

"DEAN!"

The house creaks ominously again so I stagger to my feet, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him a few feet away from the smoldering structure … coughing as I try to rid my lungs of the noxious fumes.

It's the first time I can get a clear look at him. His face is covered in grimy black soot, lips slightly parted and his red-rimmed eyes swollen shut. My heart beats frantically in my chest. I lean over, putting my ear against his chest … listening … praying for a heartbeat. I'm not sure if the frenzied thumping I hear is just coming from him or me as well, but his chest isn't rising ... he's not breathing …

… god Dean … don't do this to me again …

I've had too many damn years of practice doing this. I hate that it's like second nature to tilt his chin, pinch his nose and cover his mouth with my own as I give him 3 quick breaths. But I'm also thankful … cause I've managed to bring him back from the brink of death every time … just hope my luck holds out. I stop to breathe and cough, shaking as I cover his mouth again for another 3 quick breaths, my bloody fingerprints leaving marks on his still face.

… please … please …

It's on the forth try that I feel him inhale weakly against my lips … he wheezes as he battles to breathe but his eyes remain closed. My body starts shivering with relief ... feel lightheaded … probably in shock.

"It's okay son … you can stop now … we'll take over …"

I look up dazed. There are paramedics and firemen surrounding us. Didn't even hear them arrive.

"It's okay …" his hand is resting on my shoulder and his words finally penetrate my confused mind. I nod my head … my throat is sore … I cough again. The acrid taste of smoke from Dean's lips still lingering on my own. I stumble back as they surround him, checking his airway. Tears burn my eyes as I watch … they're helping him … they're helping my brother … he's going to be okay. One of the paramedics looks over at me worriedly, but then Dean starts choking, gasping for air and her attention is drawn back to assist him. I pray silently as they fight to save his life.

"… please Dean … don't leave me …"

"We need to intubate … his airway is swelling closed."

I sway on my feet, wincing as my hand touches my bloody side. I can still feel the sharp piece of wood imbedded deep in the muscle … I don't know how bad it is … my black t-shirt hiding the blood … but the adrenalin rush is fading and with it comes pain.

I cough again … my vision swimming.

Somewhere in my confusion I know that I need to get to the car. I start moving, making my way around the house. Nobody notices me. The paramedics are focusing their full attention on Dean as they struggle to get him to breathe. The firemen are fighting a losing battle against the blaze. I want to stay, but I need to hide the gun tucked in my jeans … have to get our fake medical insurance cards and wallets. Everything's in the car with our cell phones.

I focus on each painful step as I make my way back to the Impala. People are standing outside and along the road, eyes transfixed with morbid fascination as the fire consumes the house. I collapse against the door, breathing hard. I manage to slide halfway into the car, my breath hitching as more pain shoots up my side … blood dripping on the leather upholstery. I grin lopsidedly … Dean is so gonna kick my ass. With trembling hands I push my gun under the seat … hissing as I reach over to open the glove compartment, pulling out everything that we'll need. I sit for a minute looking in confusion at the wallets and cell phone resting on my lap. Not sure what I'm doing here … I feel kinda sick. I slowly look up just as more paramedics rush around the house with a gurney.

Shit … Dean ...

I fumble as I gather everything in my hands, pushing myself up again and locking the car door as I sway to my feet. I lean heavily against the Impala, slipping the cards and wallets into my pockets … need to phone Mrs. Harris, the kid's mom. It's just a quick call relaying the message that her boys are okay and that we're on our way to County General. She sobs with joy over the phone.

"Officer … I don't know how to thank you and your brother for saving my boys … I'll never forget this … never."

"No need to thank us … it's just part of our job."

_It's just part of our job_ … a job that's ruined our lives and threatens to take my brother away from me again. I wipe my hands across my moist eyes as I watch them rush Dean over to the ambulance, securely strapped to the gurney.

Bobby … my hand is shaking so badly I'm not sure if I pressed speed dial for Bobby or Bob's Pizza Delivery. I wait with bated breath … but it's Bobby's gruff voice that answers the phone.

"Hey Sam … did you get him?"

"Yeah …"

"Good … you boys okay."

I blink hard … the ground seems to be spinning under my feet ...

"No … Dean's unconscious … they're taking him to hospital …"

"Sam … what happened … are you okay?"

"Yeah … just need to be with him … please take care of the car Bobby … it's parked on 24th off central … locked it … put the key's in the usual place."

I see them loading Dean into the ambulance … panic grips me … I call out ...

"… wait …"

But they don't seem to hear me so I take a tentative step forward … wish the ground would stop moving …

"… they're going Bobby … County General … need to go with …"

"Sam … you don't sound right … are you hurt?"

"… guess so …"

I stagger forward … have to get to the ambulance … they can't leave me behind … need to be with Dean.

"SAM! SAM!"

I can hear Bobby yelling my name but I switch the phone off … I'm sorry Bobby … I just don't have the strength to talk.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the kids we rescued … their small forms covered in blankets, holding oxygen masks over their faces. They're being led by one of the paramedics to the second waiting ambulance. The youngest one spots me, pulling away and rushing over, grabbing my leg in a tight hug. I smile down into his tear streaked face, gently ruffling the hair on top of his head. I sway slightly.

"It's okay buddy … you're safe now … I called your mom … she'll meet us at the hospital, alright?"

He nods and manages to smile up at me, a soft "fanks" whistling past his toothy grin as he squeezes me tightly again ... then rushes back to join his brother. He's older brother just nods his head in acknowledgement … he reminds me a lot of Dean at that age. It's moments like this that almost make it worthwhile … almost. God Dean … just hang on … I swallow the lump in my throat. A paramedic is suddenly right up in my face. I battle to focus on her.

"Hey … there you are … we wondered where you'd gone …"

Her voice trails off as she spots my bloody hand. I just need to lie down for a bit, don't feel too good. My legs suddenly start giving way under me. She's stronger than I thought 'cause she manages to catch and support my tall frame as we shuffle over to the ambulance. She carefully lowers me to sit on the ambulance step. I huff, face wrinkling as pain lances up my side.

I try really hard to focus, but everything she says sounds like a loud humming. She carefully lifts my t-shirt … I can see her mouthing 'Shit' as she turns to her partner. Suddenly I'm surrounded by frantic activity as they put an oxygen mask over my face, do a quick check of my vitals and place a pressure dressing around the wound. A few deep breaths later and the buzzing in my ears finally stops.

She's talking through the relay attached to her shoulder … wants to get me transported to the hospital in the other ambulance.

"No … no … I want to go with my brother … please … it's not far …"

"There's not much room in there … and it's not proper procedure …"

"Please …"

"Jill … we need to move now." It's the guy in the back with Dean.

She looks at the driver … he just nods his head as he looks up worriedly at the medic assisting Dean. They help me up carefully, positioning me to sit next to him, making me as comfortable as possible. She calls the hospital with our stats.

"I have two males on route, early twenties … hand controlled ventilation in progress, patient is in respiratory distress and unresponsive. He has a 3rd degree burn across his back, severe smoke inhalation and swelling to the trachea … also possible head trauma."

I shake as I listen to her rattle off the list … didn't even know Dean got burnt … I suddenly feel sick … I swallow down the urge to throw up.

"We also have a penetrating abdominal wound, severe blood loss, pupils are uneven, possible head trauma and smoke inhalation.

Jill inserts an IV line into my arm and gently wraps a blanket over my shivering shoulders. My gaze locks on the medic as he rhythmically pumps oxygen into Dean's wheezing lungs from the ampu-bag covering his face. They've cut his t-shirt down the middle, EKG leads leading to the heart monitor. I watch the readout nervously as I reach across to take his hand in my own. He's so still.

They've managed to clean him up a bit, exposing dry red skin … it looks almost like he's got a bad sunburn. Jill moves forward, forcing Dean's swollen lids open as she drops some clear liquid into his very red eyes. I try to continue breathing evenly as all the worst case scenarios play out in my head … I just hope there's no permanent damage.

The ambulance jerks slightly and I hiss in pain … I'd love to just pass out right now ... but Jill starts asking me questions about allergies and our medical history, which she scribbles on a form, worry etched on her face. I answer tiredly, giving her our fake insurance card details. She bags our cards, wallets, my cell phone and Dean's ring and amulet, writing out a label for Sam Wayne. I smile … Dean used one of dad's old aliases this time around … thought it was hysterical when dad used it … John Wayne. I snort.

"I'll keep these safe for you okay … how you feeling Sam?"

How should I be feeling? I look at Dean's cracked, dry lips … rubbing soothing circles on his wrist as I cradle his hand in mine. I'm so tired of this … it's just not worth it … it's not worth Dean's life, it's not worth mine … and it wasn't worth dads or moms. A sob escapes my lips.

Jill gently squeezes my arm.

"It's okay … you're both gonna be okay … you hear me … we're nearly there."

I look up at her, smiling tentatively … she's obviously never heard of 'Winchester' luck.

Dean's hand suddenly tightens in mine. His body starts shuddering on the gurney as he fights to inhale ... the alarm from the monitor next to him making me jump slightly.

"Shit … blood oxygen levels have just dropped."

"What's going on … what's wrong?"

The medic is checking the intubation tube.

"His throat is nearly completely swollen shut, he's not getting enough oxygen."

"Dean?"

They work frantically, trying to keep his airway open, but just as quickly he stops struggling, a faint sigh brushing past his lips one last time as he exhales.

"Ah crap … he's stopped breathing … what's our ETA?"

"Two minutes."

"Shit … he's going into cardiac arrest …"

"No … Dean?"

He starts CPR as Jill injects an ampoule of epinephrine directly into his IV.

"Please … do something …"

"We're trying Sam … just try to keep calm …"

Yeah right … my brothers dying and you want me to stay calm … I start coughing again … the agony in my side almost knocking me out. Jill reaches over to put a steadying hand on me as she relays the information to the hospital staff on standby.

"ETA one minute ... we have a code, CPR in progress."

She looks at my stricken face and her eye's widen.

"Sam, just breathe … deep breaths … that's it."

I follow her instructions, my chest suddenly feels very tight. The ambulance comes to an abrupt halt and the doors fly open as medical personal pull Dean out of the ambulance. One of the doctor's takes over, climbing up onto the gurney … performing chest compression as they rush him in through the ER doors.

"No … Dean …" I try to push myself up but my legs decide to buckle again. Okay, maybe I should just lie down for a minute.

"Take it easy kid … they're doing everything they can for him."

They carefully help me out of the ambulance, easing me onto a gurney and instantly start pushing me towards the ER doors. I'm rushed into one of the exam rooms and lifted onto a table. I try to find Dean … eventually seeing him through the open door between our two rooms. They're still doing CPR … his translucent skin glowing under the harsh lights. Even from here I can see the blue tinge to his lips and my heart aches, my chest tightening again. I look up at the doctor who is examining me … I need some reassurances that he's gonna be okay.

"… my brother?"

"It's okay Mr. Wayne they're working on him now … just need you to focus on yourself for a minute … can you feel this?"

I feel his hands probing along my injured side … but strangely there's no pain … can't remember taking any painkillers … just feel numb …

"Abdomen is slightly extended, I think we have some internal bleeding … also this chunk of wood in his side may have hit some internal organs. Let's give him 2 grams IV Cefotan and get him downstairs to Radiology."

He injects something into my arm.

"Mr. Wayne … can you hear me … I need you to answer my question."

I look at him blankly, he doesn't seem to understand that my whole life is ending just a few feet away from me. I turn my head slightly to look over at Dean again. He arches up off the table as paddles are applied to shock his heart … tears blur my vision.

"Mr. Wayne … I need you to concentrate … do you feel this?"

He pushes along the wound again … I shake my head slowly … my eyes feel really heavy … the images of them trying to revive my big brother etch themselves painfully into my memory.

"His blood pressure is dropping doctor."

"Damnit … okay people lets move and someone book an OR ... Mr. Wayne … can you hear me?"

… my last thought before everything fades into nothingness is … please Dean … please don't die.

_**TBC**_

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**_Next POV from Bobby ;0)_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** Thanks as always to everyone for the awesome reviews ;0)

**In other news:** Second panel of my comic will be up tomorrow ;0)

**Disclaimer**: Dang … I nearly forgot to do one of these … well as you know, I wanted the boys wrapped up in bows under my Christmas Tree … but that didn't happen … can only assume I was more naughty than nice last year LOL … so they still don't belong to me (wails in misery).

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Bobby's POV**

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Damnit to hell Sam. I slam my cell phone shut in frustration again. I've been trying to get through to him for the last 20 minutes … ever since he put the phone down on me. I'm already breaking land speed records trying to get to the County General. 

Those boys are seriously gonna give me a heart attack … and if I die because of it … I'm gonna make sure I haunt their sorry asses!

Worrying over them is making me cranky, but those kids are like my own sons. Damnit to friggin hell! I slam my palms on the steering wheel. Something's definitely not right with Sam. When he phoned me he sounded off … more than usual. I know how he sounds when he worries about Dean, he gets frantic and argumentative … this was different. He sounded lost and almost downright soul weary … his voice far too weak. There's a heavy feeling deep in my gut, never a good sign. That stubborn kid is probably also injured and didn't want to let on. Typical … not taking care of himself because his brother's life is more important to him then his own. It's the exact same for Dean. Just wish to hell I knew for sure what was going on. I rub my hand through my whiskers irritably.

Shit John … you really created yourself one hellava dysfunctional family … and then you have the cheek to cash in your cards and leave those boys in my unworthy care. I shake my head again but I can't suppress a throaty chuckle as I glance up at the night sky … I'm still gonna get you for this Winchester … god I miss that son of a bitch.

I flip open my cell phone again and dial Hal.

"Hey Bobby … been expecting your call … how did it go?"

"Does 'hell in a hand basket' mean anything to you?"

"That bad hah?"

"Yeah … Sam phoned, said that they're on their way to the hospital. He didn't give me any details though, wasn't himself … said Dean was unconscious. Damn kid also switched his phone off … don't need to tell you that I'm worried."

"Shit Bobby … knowing those boys, it can only mean trouble … but I'll make a few calls to validate your covers."

"Thanks Hal, really appreciate it."

"… and Bobby, dagnabit, just make sure you phone me once you find out what's happening."

I almost grin. He's as worried as I am.

"Will do."

I flip the phone closed again, looking at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My hair is neatly combed back and I'm wearing my best Sunday suit … the one I want to be buried in one day. I have the fake badge that Hal managed to get for me clipped to my top pocket. Detective Singer … has a nice ring to it.

Hal has been assisting us with supernatural cases ever since those boys encountered that damn Lich a few months back. Says it's his job to uphold the law and protect the average citizen … and he can't think of a better way then to make sure that all things paranormal get taken care of, even if it means putting his job and his life in jeopardy. He says it's a small price to pay compared to what we do on a daily basis, which definitely earned our respect and now he's become invaluable when it comes to covering our tracks.

My mind wanders back to Sam and Dean. Don't know how bad Dean is, or why he's unconscious. Just hope it's nothing serious ... but my instincts tell me otherwise so I step on the accelerator.

30 minutes later I pull into a parking space near the entrance reserved for law enforcement personnel. I grin. I've played many different roles over the years, so falling into character is like second nature. I march with authority up to the information desk at reception, and use my gruffest voice.

"Detective Singer …" I show her my badge, "… I understand that one of my officers was brought in earlier this evening, he was accompanied by his partner. Sam and Dean Wayne."

"Oh yeah, the Wayne brothers?"

I try not to snort.

"Yup."

"Both boys in the police force … sounds like a family business."

"Yeah, you could say that."

She smiles at me and then quickly scans the list in front of her.

"Doctor Miller is the physician on duty, looks like she's checking on your officer as we speak. I'll page her, you can just take a seat, she should be with you shortly."

I nod my head firmly in thanks as she pages for the doctor. I do a quick scan of the waiting area, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam. I don't see him anywhere.

Still wanted to ask her if she'd seen him, but she's talking on the phone. A few minutes later I'm deciding whether I should start looking for him myself in the canteen, but knowing him he's more than likely hovering somewhere near Dean.

"Detective Singer?'

I stand up, "Yeah that's me."

"Hi Detective, I'm Doctor Miller. Sheriff Hal Turner phoned to say you were on your way. I see here that you're also listed as a medical guardian. You must be very close."

"Yes, we are."

She holds out her hand and I shake it firmly. She looks at her chart.

"Well, it looks like one of your officers … Sam Wayne … is still in surgery."

I grip the counter to steady myself … I'm not sure I heard her right …

"Sam? … surgery?"

"Yes … he came in with severe internal bleeding. We had to rush him through to the OR. They're removing a large splinter of wood which entered his upper abdominal wall and ruptured his spleen. However you can rest assured that we have the best surgical team working on him. Looking at his chart he's also suffering from mild smoke inhalation and a concussion, but we'll have more information once he comes out of surgery."

I force myself to remain calm, can't lose it now. I swallow hard.

"What about Dean?"

"I was just with him, I'm afraid he's still listed as critical … he was in cardiac arrest when he arrived, but we've managed to stabilize him for now."

"Cardiac arrest?" Shit it just keeps getting worse and worse.

"Yes, he's suffered extensive thermal injury to the upper airway and lungs. We did a Laryngoscope and he has an edema. It's reducing his ability to clear secretions, which in turn is obstructing his airway and causing him respiratory distress."

I've had years of field and medical training so I understand the full impact of what she's saying.

"At the moment we're treating him with humidified oxygen and a mixture of heliox gas to reduce his labored breathing. We're also using suction to clear the secretions in his lungs, and for now we have him on endotracheal intubation to maintain his airway."

One thought keeps replaying inside my head as I listen to the doc talk … 'they're strong, they'll survive this, they have to' … I take another steadying breath.

"He also has some minor second and third degree burns across his back. We've removed the broken skin and burnt material and applied an antiseptic cream, so hopefully it will heal cleanly and leave minimal scaring. We've also irrigated and bandaged his eyes, but we won't know the extent or effects of any possible damage to his eyesight until the swelling goes down and he regains consciousness."

Every detail she gives me is wrenching at my gut, but my face gives nothing away.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"It's hard to tell at this point, we've put him on broad spectrum antibiotics and medication to reduce the swelling of the mucosa. His system is very weak and our biggest worry at the moment is pneumonia. He'll need to undergo extensive respiratory therapy to help remove the mucus build up in his lungs."

I let her words sink in while I send up a prayer to whichever deities are out there to keep those boys alive.

"Can I see him?"

"Yes sure … but we have him heavily sedated …the next 24 hours are going to be critical."

I know what to expect but I'm still not prepared for the sight that greats me when I walk into Dean's room.

He's completely surrounded by instruments with panels and read outs. IV lines run into his arm in a maze of tubing as the respirator swooshes in time to the rise and fall of his chest. Lord he looks awful. A stark white dressing covers his eyes, but it's his still paleness which hits me the hardest. The Dean I know is like a live coil, ready to spring into action at a moments notice. You couldn't get him to sit still for 5 minutes if your life depended on it. The person lying in this bed isn't Dean and I push back the fear that he might not actually make it this time around. I move forward, placing my hand on his moist brow, willing some of my strength into his failing body.

"… god kid … you look like all kinds a crap …"

I pull up a chair … just sitting … watching his labored breathing. I rub my eyes tiredly, I'm just so 'freegin angry. Not at Dean or Sam, although sometimes I could just throttle them … but at a messed up world where these selfless kids risk their lives in this thankless job. I'm already at the end of my tether, what with Dean's time running out, even though Sam and I have been breaking our backs trying to find a way to get him out of his deal. I remember how angry I was with Dean when he made that deal, but just one look in his eyes and I knew that I shouldn't have expected anything else. He's got serious self-worth issues, but he also has the softest heart of anyone that I know. I take his hand in mine … chuckling softly as I imagine the look of disgust on his face if he could see me now.

"You just hang in there, okay kiddo … don't you go checking out on me just yet. Sam needs you … ya hear me …he needs you to be strong and pull through this."

A half hour later the doctor comes in and I quickly wipe at my moist eyes.

"Detective … Sam has just come out of surgery. It went well and barring any complications he should make a full recovery. We're just settling him in, then you can go through to see him."

I don't trust myself to speak so I nod my head, just sitting in silence a few minutes longer, listening to the soft beeping of the heart monitor.

"Hey Dean, I'm gonna leave you for a while, gotta check on your little brother okay? Just ya keep fighting."

I get up slowly, gently squeezing his arm as I stand. I don't have the heart to leave his side but I need to make sure that Sam is okay. I phone Hal in the waiting area, giving him a rundown on the boy's condition. He wants to come through to the hospital but I explain that there's nothing we can do but wait. I promise to call him if there are any changes.

Both boys are in the intensive care ward. A nurse directs me to Sam's room, he's just a few doors down from Dean.

I shake my head again. I'm seriously getting too old for this shit. Sam looks almost as bad as Dean. They have him on oxygen, but thankfully he's breathing on his own. IV lines with plasma and saline run into his arm, but he's at least got some color to his face. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was just sleeping, but it's a deep sleep because he doesn't stir as I reach out to touch his arm.

The doc comes in to tell me that he'll be out of it for a while, so I make myself comfortable. It's my own snores that wake me and I look up to see Sam stirring slightly. His eyes darting behind closed lids. I lean forward nervously.

"Sam? Hey … can you hear me?"

"Bobby …?"

His voice is soft and weak as he forces his way to consciousness. Freegin tears start running freely down my face as I sniff loudly. Turning into a goddamn sniveling nurse maid … but I can't help it … he's awake.

"Yeah kiddo … how you feeling?"

He blinks a few times as he focuses on me, but his tired smile suddenly changes to complete anguish as he looks into my eyes.

I've never seen him like this before. I immediately panic.

"Sam?"

Tears stream down his own face as he starts shaking. Something's seriously wrong … I think I need to call the doc.

"Easy Sam …take it easy … what's wrong?"

He closes his eyes again, the monitor next to his bed beeping frantically in time with his heartbeat and suddenly it all falls into place. I'm a damn fool …. he woke up to find me crying … poor kid doesn't know and he's probably suspecting the worst ... his hoarse whisper only confirms my fears …

"Bobby … is … Dean … dead?"

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** I've had a really tough week so if anyone has a stronger recipe for nurples … please send it over stat LOL ;0) - Thanks again to everyone for the fantabulously awesome reviews … hope I haven't lost you all to boredom yet ;0)

**Warning: **Mild Language

**Sammy's POV**

* * *

Snoring? I focus on the sound. Someone is snoring softly next to me. I can't remember how many times I've woken up to that sound. A smile pulls at my lips as I imagine Dean sitting next to me, fast asleep. There's a grunting noise and then I can hear someone softly calling my name … strange, doesn't sound like Dean … I force my way to consciousness. 

I win the battle against my heavy eyelids and manage to look up into Bobby's blurry face. Bobby? Where am I? Where's Dean? The memories suddenly come rushing back … the fire … the kids … Dean … oh god!

I focus my vision on Bobby's face again, he's crying … Bobby's crying? My heart instantly wrenches painfully in my chest and I can't hold back my own tears as a dark hollowness pours into my chest. Dean, my big brother … he's not here with me ... oh god. The pain is unbearable and I want to yell that agony out to the world … my brother … he didn't make it … please say it isn't true … please Bobby. My throat aches as I close my eyes, asking the question I don't want an answer to.

"Bobby … is … Dean … dead?"

I can feel his firm hand on my shoulder … his urgent words breaking through my devastation.

"Shit … no Sam … no … he's alive, I'm so sorry, I should've realized."

I can suddenly breathe again.

"He's alive?"

I blink back the burning tears … relief feels like a soothing balm to my damaged soul.

"Yeah kiddo, hell … didn't mean to scare you like that … he's alive Sam, he's stable, holding his own."

I chuckle nervously as that deep fear leaves me.

"Shit Bobby … way to give me … a heart attack!"

He squeezes my shoulder again just as the doctor walks in.

"Is everything okay here?"

"Yeah doc … just scared the living daylights outta the poor kid … he just woke up."

I try to smile but I feel too weak.

The doctor fusses around me, checking my vitals as I battle to keep my eyes open … I'm so tired … want to talk to Bobby … get more info about Dean … but I just can't stay awake …

The funny thing about sleep is that when you're not well it just doesn't refresh you. I wake up feeling like I've gone a few rounds with a banshee and lost. I feel sick to my stomach and pain is starting to make me very uncomfortable. Bobby is instantly at my side.

"Sam … you okay … you've gone white as your sheets."

"Hurts."

I'm not up for a full sentence conversation.

"Shit kiddo, just hang on … I'll call the doc."

He rushes out just as an orderly comes in. He smiles at me but for some reason the smile doesn't reach his eyes. I instantly take a dislike to him, don't know why, but my instincts are never wrong.

I watch him wearily as he assists the nurse with the equipment around my bed. His crafty gaze seem to be scanning the room. I'd ask him what his problem is, if I didn't feel like hurling right now. I'm almost relieved when he finally leaves.

The doc comes in with Bobby. She rattles off a list of orders to the nearest nurse and I sigh relieved as they up the dose of my painkillers. I can feel the instant effects as the drug rushes through my system. Shit … that's much better.

Bobby looks at me worriedly.

"Sam … I know you're tired, but do you think you could handle a visitor?"

I'm almost expecting to see Dean … even though I know it's impossible, but it's Mrs. Harris hovering near the door … I try to hide my disappointment.

"She says she just wants to see you for a minute, she's been itching to talk to you since she found out you woke up."

What can I do … I just nod my head. She walks over to me tentatively.

"Hi Sam … can I call you Sam?"

I nod my head again tiredly, I really don't have the strength for this. Just seeing her is bringing back the reality that Dean is fighting for his life a few rooms away from me.

She moves next to me slowly, her eyes brimming with moisture as she smiles down at me. I feel uncomfortable, don't fall into the role of "you're-a-hero-in-my-eyes" easily. She takes my hand gently in hers.

"Thank you …"

She chuckles softly ...

"… it sounds almost ridiculous doesn't it … but all I can think of to say is thank you … you and your brother, you gave me back my life. If anything had happened to my boys … well I don't know what I would have done."

She sniffs and I immediately feel bad for being selfish. She has as much to lose as I do.

"I'm also terribly sorry to hear about Dean … but I want you to know that you're both in my prayers."

I actually want to laugh at that … prayers? I blink in confusion, I'm surprised at myself, sounded just like Dean there for a second. Where did that come from?

"Thanks Mrs. Harris … how're your boys doing?"

"They're doing fine, considering. The doctor said that they have to stay overnight for observation but he doesn't see any permanent damage. They've also organized a councilor to help us through this ordeal … but at the moment we're just happy to be back together again."

Her lips tremble … but I still feel empty inside … probably just tired … but there's a heaviness on my shoulders that wasn't there before.

Thankfully the doc tells her that I need my rest and she reluctantly leaves with a promise that she'll visit again. I watch her go with an emptiness in my heart. I'd love to just close my eyes and give in to the painlessness of deep sleep … but my mind keeps wondering back to Dean … I'd do anything to just be in the same room with him. It will give me the peace that I can't get from Bobby's reassurances that there's no change to his condition. I have to hold onto that … knowing he could get worse or better in a blink of an eye. It's not reassuring. Besides I need to stay awake, just in case there's a change.

Even through all of my tough talk I'm startled awake a few minutes later. Must have dosed off … I'm so exhausted.

Bobby just smiles at me knowingly … he's learnt the rules to this game … the one where I pretend to be stronger than I feel. He gives me an update on Dean's condition before I ask … he's still having trouble breathing, fluids on his lungs, trying to maintain his airway … but still stable for now … I clutch onto those words with hope. Bobby looks at me like he's reading my mind, his still presence acting as support as I let his words sink in.

"Sam, kiddo, I'm going through to get the Impala. I've called for a cab … I'll bring it back here to the hospital. Don't want Dean to wake up without his baby close by, he'll tear me a new one."

I chuckle softly.

"Thanks … Bobby."

He leaves, telling me _and then threatening me_ to take it easy. I'm really starting to feel ill again… might be the effects of the drugs in my system … I was never very good with anesthetic. Dean says I puke like clockwork every time I come out of surgery … he's not wrong … I hurl into the basin next to my bed. A nurse immediately comes over to help me, wiping me down with a cool cloth and making sure that I feel better and that I'm settled comfortably before she leaves.

The hairs on my arms suddenly rise. I nearly jump out of my skin as I feel a dark presence in the room. I look around quickly, but there's nothing there. I don't know why I'm so edgy.

Then out of the corner of my eye I see it … a dark form standing at the far wall. A freakish apparition, what the hell is it? My heart races uncontrollably in my chest as my mind starts analyzing all the possibilities. What kind of creature would appear in a hospital. A ghost? … a reaper? ... Oh crap!

It moves over to me slowly … just a dark silhouette … till it's standing next to me … looking down at me with red eyes … shit it must be a reaper, don't think I've ever seen one … but it has to be … am I dying?

It starts moving towards my door and the shock of instant realization hits me hard.

What if it isn't after me … what if its after …

I yell out in panic … my stitches pulling painfully as I try to sit up.

The orderly with the beady eyes and a nurse run in … holding me down as they page for doctor Miller.

"Let me go … have to get … to Dean."

"Mr. Wayne you need to keep still … you're hurting yourself."

I try to push up again, pain making me grunt in agony. My weak voice barely audible to my own ears.

"No, please … need to help my brother … there's a reaper …"

"What did he say?"

"I'm not sure … but his blood pressure just shot through the roof."

Dr Miller rushes in … I try to tell her … but the pain is taking my breath away … I fight to stay conscious.

"Sam, we're going to give you a sedative …"

"No …"

"It's okay Sam … you're going to be okay."

"… it's a reaper …"

They don't understand, there's a reaper after Dean …

I want to scream in frustration but I can only watch helplessly as the dark form hovers in the doorway … it's going after Dean and I can't stop it …

I can feel the pull of the drugs dragging me into sleep, please someone … anyone … help me … help Dean …

_**TBC**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** Thanks to everyone for your little notes of encouragement and fantabulous reviews, for both this story and my comic … they still make me happy ;0)

**Plus:** Just a quick heads-up. The character in this chapter is the same one from the Supernatural Origins comic. I'm making up most of the facts about him as I go … just my take on the possible reason Kripke introduced him to us in the first place. He's also going to play a pivotal role in my next story … so I thought now would be a good time to 'unveil' him (even though he's a bit of an enigma) … and for those of you who haven't read the comic this may be the beginnings of a spoiler … sorry!

**Warning:** Mild Language

**The 'Hunters' POV**

* * *

Waiting. It's one of the oldest pastimes in the universe. It's a key factor in learning the virtues of patience … and I have plenty of patience. Been around for decades, seen things that would make a sane man crazy, but it's all for a purpose. It's all leading up to something big … and the time is nearly at hand. 

I've been keeping track of the two Winchester boys. They're an integral part of the plan. They've never seen me, but I've been studying them for years, since they were kids … just waiting.

I stand quietly now, watching Sam fret over his brother, he's so scared that Dean is gonna die. Good. The bond between those two has grown stronger from the time they reunited. I can't help but smirk at the irony. For a while there I thought the prophecy wasn't going to come true … but then old 'yellow eyes' stepped in and got the whole thing back on track by killing Sam's girl. A shame really, she was a pretty little thing. But he nearly ruined everything, killing John, and technically killing Sam, which I have to admit has worked in my favor. He didn't have patience though, didn't have all the facts … just wanted to move up the ranks as quickly as possible … good thing the bastard's gone.

Fang whines next to me. Taken to calling him Fang ever since he lost his tooth. Damn strange to see a hellhound with only one tooth. I pat him on his head. He's getting impatient … he's never been one for 'waiting'.

"Okay you mangy mutt … jus hold yur horses … have a few things I need to do first fore I leave … you go on back, and don't you dare piss on the brimstone … can't get rid of that damn smell!"

He whines again … giving me that 'I'm-so-gonna-piss-on-the-brimstone' look before he gets up and walks away … disappearing into the blackness. Damn dog.

I turn my attention back to Sam as he watches the nurse and orderly set up more equipment around his bed. He's watching the orderly with a trained eye … he can sense there's something off with the guy. He's good … John trained them well.

John … last time I saw him was back at the Fore Inn, thought he had killed me and my mutt, but back then he didn't realize that you can't kill something that's already dead. As long as I inhabit this meat suit, and stay out of the range of that goddamn colt … I'll be hanging around. He was an ungrateful son of a bitch, I mean I helped him become more than he ever thought was possible. Took away his allusion of safety … focused his fury over Mary's death so that he could become a great hunter, and in turn he trained his boys. Now they're great, they're better then great … they're the best.

Need to start the ball rolling … this is gonna be fun … haven't shown myself to anyone for years except Lenny. He didn't need much encouragement though, just appeared in his bedroom … didn't even say a word … but it was enough to push his demented mind over the edge. Killing those kids was his own idea … had some serious 'mother' issues. Years of mental abuse took there toll until he finally killed his ailing mom and buried her in the backyard. But the set-up worked well … both Winchesters in hospital … and finally separated from each other for a few hours. Everything's going according to plan.

We're finally alone so I phase myself into view slowly, making sure only he can see me, keeping to the shadow. It doesn't take him long … as I said … he's good. He spots my hazy form and immediately starts panicking. The heart monitor thrums out his frantic heartbeat. I move over slowly ... that's right Sam, need you to be scared, need you to be out of your mind with worry … fear of loss is the strongest form of emotional bonding, and that's what I need from Sam and Dean right now. He tries to sit up as the nurse and orderly run in, trying to hold him down. I can hear his desperate plea that he needs to save his brother from a reaper … he thinks I'm a reaper. I chuckle. Perfect. I start moving over to the door to instill that terror and it works, he becomes even more frantic as the doctor comes in to give him a sedative. He fights with everything he has, but he's just too weak from his injuries. I grin with admiration, his eyes never leaving me, his gaze becoming sightless as he slips into drug induced sleep.

"What the hell was that?"

"Don't know doctor … we came in and he was trying to get out of bed. His blood pressure went up and he was mumbling incoherently. Don't know what got into him, he doesn't have a fever but he seemed delirious."

"Okay, lets get a full blood work-up … it could be an allergy or some adverse effect to his medication. I want the lab results pronto people … Sheriff Turner says that these two officers are going to get medals from the Mayor for bravery, he wants them to have the best medical care … and I sure as hell don't want to be the one to explain that we lost Sam over here to some technicality."

They immediately start taking samples. Checking stats, readouts and charts as they rush around. I wait for them to leave, only the orderly manages to stay behind. He quickly checks the passageway to make sure it's clear and then he starts rummaging through the cupboard next to Sam's bed. His name tag reads 'Chuck Johnson'. I watch as he breaks open the drawer and pulls out a clear plastic bag labeled 'Sam Wayne'. He stuffs it into his pocket, along with a fine looking Swiss Army watch. He closes the drawer again and wipes away any fingerprints that he may have left behind, then quickly sneaks out of the room and down the passage. Nobody saw him. Nobody but me.

A nurse comes in again and I look at Sam once more … I have to leave but I'll see him again … soon. I make my way down the passage, invisible to everyone, until I get to Dean's room.

He looks worse than I expected. A fine sheen of sweat covering his body. I listen to the doctors as they discuss his condition. They've removed the intubation tube, apparently the swelling in his throat has gone down thanks to the medication. They're suctioning out the secretions in his lungs but they're still worried about pneumonia. Dean's tired and shallow wheezing only reinforcing their opinions.

Kid sounds like his dying. I gaze over at the reaper hovering near by. It latched onto Dean the moment he came in through the hospital doors and it's just been scrutinizing him like a vulture ever since. Don't care much for reapers myself … death has no appeal to me anymore, but it's not gonna take these brothers. I have plans for them. Our eyes lock, mine blazing red in silent challenge. It doesn't put up a fight, it's not stupid … just swooshes out of the room and down the passage in search of easier prey.

The optologist is changing the dressing covering Dean's eyes. They look red and puffy as he drops medication in between his swollen lids. He finally adds an ointment and then carefully re-covers them.

"Well, I'm pleased to say there is no damage to his corneas … once the swelling goes down we'll check his vision. But I'm very optimistic."

He chats to the doctor while he makes notes on his clipboard, but Dean suddenly starts hacking painfully. The therapist immediately moves over. With the help of a nurse they sit him up carefully, bracing him in the nurse's arms as the therapist starts rhythmically thumping Dean on his back, chest and under his arms ignoring the sensitive burns out of necessity. His coughs sound so painful I can almost feel them.

"That's it Dean, try to cough it up … need to get those nasty fluids out of your lungs."

He doesn't seem to hear them … just clutches onto the sheets with white fisted knuckles. He's in obvious pain, face wrinkled up as he battles to inhale through the phlegm on his chest. I can hear him rasping Sam's name repeatedly as he desperately tries to inhale. Even in this condition his concern is still focused on Sam, excellent.

"Sammy … need … Sammy …"

His voice comes out in a soft gurgle, then he chokes again as something thick and wet obstructs his throat. The nurse wipes the suffocating black mucus bubbling from his nose and lips as the therapist quickly suctions his mouth to remove the life threatening secretions.

'That's good … I know you're tired Dean, but just keep trying."

The session lasts for 15 minutes and by the end of it Dean is completely drained and immediately slips back into unconsciousness. These short intervals of chest physiotherapy are slowly and painstakingly trying to save his life. His lips still have a slight blue tinge as they cover his face with an oxygen mask. They check his blood oxygen levels while administering more medication to his IV, doing a thorough check before they leave his room so that he can get some much needed rest. His pale, clammy skin just another sign of his body trying to fight off an impending infection.

His raspy breathing hitches slightly as I reach over to place my cold hand on his forehead. Need to instill the same fear in Dean that I did with Sam. Have to be sure that their bond is unbreakable. He can sense my dark presence, just like his brother … they're definitely ready, just need to wait a bit longer … I close my eyes and slip with ease into his mind, invading his tortured dreams.

_**TBC**_

_**Next POV from Dean ;0) **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** Shucks … thanks guys for the great reviews … I love and appreciate them all as always! Also, this chapter had to be adjusted slightly thanks to Mr. Kripke's sudden curve-ball with his impending episode 13 - _**shrieks hysterically for the millionth time after self-inflicted-reading of said episode-synopsis-spoiler-alert**_ ;0)

Also for your entertainment … panels 4 and 5 are now up ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Dean's POV**

* * *

Suffocating. 

Dark.

Endless black shadows close in, smothering me … I try to breathe but there's no air. My oxygen deprived body fights a losing battle against the murderously thick fog slithering deep into my lungs each time I try to inhale.

Oh crap! I'm dying … possibly dead … yessir … would almost be 99.9 percent sure of it ... if it weren't for the pain. Pretty sure pain isn't part of the 'being dead' package.

… god … I want Sammy … I need him … but I'm alone … I can feel it ...

My chest aches and my throat stings as I lean forward in somebody's firm arms. I rest my fevered brow on those strong shoulders, too weak to fight, while someone else continuously thumps me on the back, chest and ribs. Friggin hell … it hurts so bad I want to cry out, but my voice only comes out in a soft gurgle … just can't muster up any strength. Have to focus on breathing … one thing's for sure though … I'm seriously gonna kung-fu the shit out of the assholes who are beating me up at the moment. I mean you don't kick a man when he's down. Paybacks gonna be a bitch … as soon as I can open my eyes … why can't I open my eyes? I cough again and my chest feels like its being ripped apart. I taste blood … shit am I coughing up blood? That can't be good.

"That's it Dean, try to cough it up … need to get those nasty fluids out of your lungs."

Well that was unexpected … assholes with soft and sexy feminine voices, and they know my name … but they're definitely still assholes. My confused mind still has enough lucidity to silently hope that I'm not having my ass kicked by two girls right now … Sammy would have a field day.

Another coughing fit leaves me breathless … need to escape this torture … but I don't have a clue where I am. Just know that Sammy's not here and I'm gonna die if I don't escape. Can't move … feels like my body's made outta lead. Smoke ... the taste and smell of it overpowers my senses as I try to inhale again. I have a vague memory of smoke and fire. I'm burning up slowly from the inside, hurting all over and I'm so damn tired. A silent sob passes my lips … this is what hell must be like. Fear instantly grips my heart … oh god … maybe I'm in hell … damn it! Wasn't quiet ready yet, still wanted to do a few 'hail Mary's' after a day-long confession with a very patient and open minded priest, just thought it might help, definitely couldn't hurt.

"Sammy … need … Sammy …"

Something thick and slimy makes me gag as another round of painful coughs wrack my body.

… god … if I'm not dead … please just smite me now … I won't hold it against you …

'That's good … I know you're tired Dean, but just keep trying."

Tired? You've gotta be shitting me lady. More like fudge-ingly physically and mentally drained to the edge of exhaustion! Yeah … that sounds about right.

I don't know how long the torture lasts … feels like years … but then instantly there's nothing. Nothing but silence. The silence of death … oh yeah … thank you … bout time!

----------------------------------

I'm just settling in to float peacefully into the black void when it suddenly feels as if something is pulling at me again. Holy crap! Why can I never catch a break?

I find myself being hauled from the peaceful blackness, travelling in a downward spiral until I'm in a crouching position next to Sammy. Sammy? We're standing outside the house of the first victims. How did I get here? This happened weeks ago. I look around confused. Oh no … shit … please tell me I'm not reliving that day ... I pinch myself hard but nothing happens. No … no … I don't want to do this again. Please. Sammy starts making a move towards the door, gun aimed in front of him. I can't help but follow, caught up in the reenactment of those horrifying memories.

This is just a dream Dean … you can wake up … wake up damnit!

There's a horrible sensation of deja-vu surrounding me. This feels too real to be imaginary as we enter the house … and even though I've been here before, the scene in front of me makes me want to throw up.

Blood covers the walls, dripping the message "He will return". Sam rushes forward to the two brothers who are bound together. They're lying in the middle of the room, a pentagram drawn roughly on the floor around them … blood pooling under their small bodies. I move forward slowly … we're too late … he killed them, but then I hear a soft whimper and instantly I'm at the side of the eldest boy. I sit behind him, carefully lifting his battered little frame into my arms, pressing down firmly on his wounds as Sammy calls for an ambulance.

His eyes open slowly, blinking as he tries to focus on my face.

"Hey kiddo … cavalry's arrived … we're getting you out of here okay … just need you to hold on a bit longer."

"Where's … Jimmy?"

He's shivering in my arms as I put my jacket over him. I look over at Sammy … he's fighting back tears as he slowly shakes his head. I want to lie … tell him that his brother is gonna be okay … but I don't.

"He didn't make it …"

His sad eyes reflect a wisdom far greater than his age.

"Thanks … for not lying. Most grown up's … would've."

He hisses in pain, his smaller hand holding tightly onto mine.

"I know … but I figured you'd see right through me … I'm a shitty liar."

He tries to smile.

"Name's … Sean."

I gently squeeze his hand.

"Dean … that's my brother Sam."

"Hey Sean."

Sean looks over at Sammy who is sitting quietly next to his little brother, holding his cold, lifeless hand in his own. He smiles and then arches slightly as he gulps to inhale. I hold him firmly, letting him ride out the pain, while I rub soothing circles on his wrist.

"It's okay … you're gonna be okay."

I have to lean forward to hear his soft whisper.

"Do you think angels … will look after … me and my brother?"

"Yeah kiddo …"

I swallow back the tears … I don't believe those words, but he needs to hear them.

"You just hang in there okay … the ambulance is on the way … you won't be going with any angels just yet."

He smiles again … but his eyes seem empty, like the life is slipping out of them. I don't want to believe it so I shake him, I shake him harder than I should … I won't let him die … I can't.

"Stay with me Sean … you just focus on me and nothing else … you're gonna make it you hear me!"

"Dean, will you tell my mom and dad … that I'm sorry … I love them … we love them."

He looks over at his brother again and my heart wrenches painfully in my chest.

"You can tell them yourself … you're gonna be just fine."

He smiles up at me.

"You really are … a shitty liar."

I chuckle, my tears dropping onto his face to mingle with his own. He mumbles softly, his words shattering my soul … they're my words.

"I don't want to live … in a world … where my little brother … is gone."

Oh god … I can feel him slipping away and I can't stop it. He can't die … he shouldn't be dying … he's just a kid, an innocent child … probably feels his only job was to keep his younger brother safe. Tears blur my vision. He failed … just like I failed them. Goddamnit! I'm holding a younger version of myself in my arms.

He jerks slightly in my embrace … where's that freegin ambulance! His gaze moves past me, staring into space … like he's looking at something.

"Dean, do you see it? It's beautiful … I can see the angels … they're standing with my brother … you were right …"

Desperation makes me shout.

"NO! Look at me Sean … there's nothing here with us … you hear me kiddo … it's just you, me and Sam … focus on me!"

His voice starts fading away.

"He's calling me … I can't leave him … have to go …"

He shudders one last time in my arms as his eyes roll back, a slight smile still on his bloody lips. I immediately lie him flat … starting chest compressions and breathing for him. Counting off each compression and breath as I try to restart his unresponsive heart.

I lose all track of time, counting, praying … hoping that for once … just this once a miracle will happen.

It doesn't.

I look up in confusion as a paramedic takes over, I move out the way, staggering to my feet.

"No … he can't die … don't die Sammy! Please!"

"Dean?"

I turn to look at Sam … he has a comforting hand on my back … his own eyes full of tears.

"I'm here Dean … I'm not dead."

I'm suddenly shaking with rage … don't know why I said Sammy … I meant Sean. I watch as the paramedics work on the kid, but he's gone … I know it even before they call time of death. I push Sam's hand away as I storm towards the door. Need to get out of here, can't breathe. Sam follows me, his soft voice adding fuel to my temper.

"I'm sorry Dean."

I chuckle scathingly … anger burning a hole in my chest.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't kill those kids!"

"Dean … I know you're mad, and you're hurting … but you need to calm down."

"You want me to calm down? Why? Why should I be calm Sam … we're living in a shitty world … and we're alone. It's just you and me up against every evil mother out there and soon it will just be you … only you Sam!"

Sam reaches out for me again, holding me firmly by the shoulders, forcing me to look into his eyes. He has that look … god I hate it when he does this.

"It's gonna be okay Dean … Sean saw them … he said he saw angels … so they're in good hands, you have to believe that … I do … I believe it with all my heart and soul!"

"Angels? Don't make me laugh Sam! Angels didn't save those kids and they won't save me!"

The devastated look in his eyes does nothing to sooth my fury.

"Don't say that Dean … don't you dare say that! I need something … something to hold on to!"

"Are we back on this again … give me a friggin break Sam!"

I pull away again, rubbing my hand irritably through my hair.

"Yes Dean … we are … and I need hope okay … I need that to keep me going … it's all I have!"

I turn abruptly … jabbing my finger at his chest … need him to get it through his thick skull.

"There is no hope Sam … don't you understand? I made this deal … I knew the consequences … and if I have to spend all eternity in hell then that's what I'm gonna do. It's the only thing of value I had to give you and I wouldn't take it back even if I could. And before you say it … yeah I'm scared … okay, I admit it … but Sam … I'm more scared of losing you."

The wind finally goes out of my sails … I don't want to fight anymore … there's too little time left to waste on arguing.

"Dean … you're what's valuable to be me damnit … don't you see that? I would rather have died then have you give up your life for me … but I can't change what you did … so I'm doing the only thing I can … I'm praying and hoping and holding onto whatever faith I have left that somehow I can save you!"

I look at him through my blurry vision, forcing back hot tears as futility descends on me. I don't want to die and I really don't want to go to the pit … but I've accepted it … I did it for Sam. That's enough for me.

"That's just it Sammy … you can't."

"So you're just giving up? Ruby said she knew a way Dean … she'll help us … please don't throw in the towel now … not when we're so close."

"Ruby?"

I chuckle … Ruby is a demon … I trust her about as far as I can throw her. But one look at Sam's face and I just don't have the heart to crush his optimism. I'm still surprised to find myself clinging to that little flame of hope that she might actually have a plan.

"You have to keep fighting Dean … even if it's only for my sake … otherwise you've lost me already."

I start coughing. I double over, covering my mouth with my hand, and when I look down at my palm it's covered with blood. Shit. Another bout of hacking buckles my knees as I kneel on the floor trying to catch my breath. Everything starts disappearing … the house, Sammy … blackness taking its place.

This isn't real … it's just a dream … you're just reliving one of the worst days in your life … that's all.

"Bravo Dean! That was rather entertaining."

I jump slightly as I look up … a dark figure moves towards me out of the shadows. He's tall, wearing a long, warn leather trench coat.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Does it matter?"

I'm so not in the mood for games, he can see it on my face.

"Just call me the Hunter."

The Hunter? Right. More like another freegin demon with my luck.

"Is it pick-on-Dean-Winchester day? Cause I didn't get the memo."

He chuckles sinisterly.

"Hell no kid … just wanted to introduce myself … I've already paid a visit to your brother … he didn't look that great the last time I saw him though."

I immediately go into panic mode. This bastard was with Sammy … if he hurt him …

"What do you want? Why are you here?"

"Always straight down to business with you, isn't it? No small talk? Oh well … seems you're more like your dad than I thought."

This Hunter dude is seriously starting to piss me off.

"What do you know about my dad?"

He grins.

"We go way back … but I'm not here to reminisce … just here to lay down some groundwork."

"Listen dude … I don't give a shit about your groundwork … I don't know you are or what you want from me, but if you're here to take my soul … just stand in line … you're not the first!"

He moves forward to crouch in front of me, staring me directly in the eyes. Nothing he's done so far is threatening … but suddenly I'm scared … more scared than I've ever been in my life.

"Cynicism … that's just like you Dean … but no … I'm just making sure that the prophecy doesn't come true … don't want anything or anyone messing with my plans. I've been waiting a long time for this moment … and what I have to say will definitely interest you."

I push myself up … this guy is trouble … I have that intense bad feeling I always get when I'm around pure evil … need to be on full alert.

"What prophecy?"

His deep voice sends shivers down my spine.

"Okay then … let's get right down to the chase. It's actually that whole yin and yang thing … first old yellow eyes and then your pops … but they got it all wrong. They were impatient and it led to mistakes. You see Dean the prophecy says that two brother will end the battle between light and dark. One brother on the side of good, one on the side of evil ... but if they stand together they will be indestructible. That strength will destroy us. Can't have that now can we? You and Sam are those warriors. Lets just say that you're almost like angels of death to the underworld."

Shit … I suddenly feel like we've been fighting this battle blindfolded.

"There's good and bad in everyone Dean and it's choices that make people what they are. But you see, the mistake was believing that Sam was the one …just like all those other 'special' kids. He was supposed to be the brother who would turn the tables in favor of evil. Yellow eyes even gave him some demon blood when he was a baby, but the irony is that Sam is inherently good, and he has to continuously fight that 'evil' within himself. And you … well I'm sure you've felt it … when you've killed, when you've protected your family at any cost … and the only thing stopping you from your possible true potential is the 'good' fighting for control within you."

Oh god … I try to let it sink in. What is he trying to say?

"You're it Dean … you're the bad seed."

I can't help but chuckle at the irony … Sammy was right all along … there are angels … and it seems that he's on their side. And me, well apparently I'm just bad to the bone, and here I thought it was part of my quirky nature … go figure. I know I'm grasping at straws but there still seems to be a little flicker of light at the end of the tunnel for me …

"But you said that together we'll be indestructible."

"Yes, that's true … why do you think we've been trying to tear your family apart piece by piece?"

I lunge forward, swinging a punch, but he melts out of my grasp. I hate it when they do that. I so want a piece of him right now. His laughter taunts me as I turn to glare at him. If only looks could kill.

"That's right Dean … there's that fighting spirit I love so much!"

A plan is already forming … just need to get as much info as I can out of this 'Hunter' to give Sammy and me the upper hand in this fight. This may be the out we've been looking for.

"So what's keeping me from going all dark-side? I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be a useless ally to you as long as I still have 'good' in me. And I hate to say it, but the forces of good have been doing a fantastic job cause I've wasted a whole shit load of evil sons-o-bitches over the years."

He laughs loudly, like I've just told the funniest joke of all time.

"Yes … you're right … this 'good' in you has been foiling all of our plans for some time now … but it just needs to be eliminated … it almost was the day Sam died … but then you went and made a deal. Turns out that was a double plus for me."

I watch in sick horror as he pulls out a document from within the folds of his long coat.

"This my boy is your contract … that's right … I'm the one who holds the deed to your soul!"

"You son of a bitch! … Why?"

"Isn't it obvious Dean … I want you playing on my team … and now I'm already halfway there. Just need to convert you. Need to remove the one good thing left in your pathetic life … need to remove your brother. With him gone … you'll have nothing left … it will be the final push you need."

No …oh god Sammy … No …

"I won't let you touch him you bastard … you hear me … I'll defend him with everything I have left of my life!"

He just smiles at me, red eyes blazing.

"That's just it Dean … opportunities are opening everywhere for me to get rid of your brother, I can choose the time and place. And if all else fails … I can just wait. Patience my boy, you should try it sometime. And like you said … what's left of your life? Who'll protect Sam when you're gone?"

I'm shaking uncontrollably … I need to find Sammy, warn him, warn Bobby … warn any damn hunter out there that the shits about to hit the fan.

"Why are you telling me this … how is this helping your plan?"

"Fear Dean … fear of loss and the accompanying deep despair. It's soul destroying … and that's what I want from you and Sam. The times not right yet … but soon."

He's right … I can feel that fear choking the last rays of hope out of me. I have nothing without Sam.

"Oh, and just by the way, in case you were making plans … you won't remember this conversation ever took place. You are after all still fighting for your life in a hospital bed."

"No … Please … don't do this … you can have me, take me now … just leave Sam alone."

I feel sick … I'm begging a demon for mercy … but there's nothing except humor is his fiery eyes. I try again.

"Please … I made a deal, I'll stick with it, do whatever you want with me … just promise … promise that you won't hurt my brother!"

I watch as he slowly slips away like a bad nightmare … only that intense fear remains, the certainty that I'm going to lose Sam feels like a death blow in a lost war … his last words fading into my forgotten memories as he disappears …

"Oh I won't hurt him just yet Dean … but you definitely will …"

_**TBC**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** Hi guys, sorry I've taken so long to get back to this story, I can only blame it on my fickle nature … my attention has been grabbed by some fantabulous fanfic that I've been reading and beta-ing _(check out PADavis' first fantastic fic "Mesmerize" … and yes, I'm shameless LOL)_ and a few adhoc art assignments … but I promise to devote my time to this fic until I beat it out of my head and onto your screen … enjoy!

Thanks to everyone for the great reviews so far! ;0) – and Vix, you may pick up some similarities here LOL ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Bobby's POV**

* * *

I'm walking down the passage on my way to Sam's room, the Impala safely parked in the visitor's area, when I see the commotion. Doctors and nurses are rushing into Dean's room a few doors down and my heart instantly sinks into my boots. Damnit kid!

I rush over, hoping and praying that it's nothing serious, skidding to a stop as I enter the fray. I gulp uncomfortably as I watch Dean straining weakly against the nurses who are trying to hold him down, tears welling in my eyes at the harshness of each labored breath as he struggles to inhale.

He coughs hoarsely and bloody mucus passes his pale lips, splattering onto the clean white sheets covering his torso. But it's his heart wrenching plea that has me storming in to help him.

"…Sam…my…"

The doctor injects something into his arm again as he struggles, Sam's name a faint mantra that he just keeps repeating as they replace the oxygen mask over his face. I put a comforting hand on his arm as he slips into unconsciousness. He's scared … can feel it radiating off him … and that scares the shit out of me.

"What the hell is going on?"

The doctor looks at me, slowly shaking her head in confusion.

"Detective Singer … I don't know what to tell you … Sam had a similar reaction just a while ago. They started struggling and calling out for each other … for the life of me I can't explain it."

This is bad. I can feel it in my weary bones. Something's up with these two and I plan on getting to the bottom of it.

"How are they doing now?"

"Well, I gave them both a strong sedative, which under the circumstances wasn't advisable, but they were hurting themselves, so I had no choice."

I rub a shaky hand through my whiskers as I listen to her.

"Sam's resting now, we had to repair some of his stitches, he tore them when he tried to get out of bed … he was very distressed … something must have seriously upset him."

It has to be Dean, Sam only gets like that when Dean is in trouble. A thousand reasons start running through my head at the possible cause, but then the doctors' next words freeze me to the core.

"Dean's condition has also deteriorated over the last half hour. The tests have just confirmed that he has a very high white blood cell count … it's pneumonia. Actually to be more precise chemical pneumonia, as a result of the fire."

My brow furrows with worry as I think about the long term consequences … how's the boy going to get back on his feet after this? Will he even be able to hunt again? Pneumonia ... the damage to his lungs? I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. Don't think Dean could be anything else, don't think he'd even want to try now, he gave up the dream of a "normal life" a long time ago … and hunting's all he's ever known. The doc's still talking so I turn my attention back to her.

"… he is suffering from acute respiratory distress syndrome … fluids are continually building up on his lungs and we're treating him with aggressive antibiotics, but as yet nothing seems to be working. We'll probably have to put him on a ventilator again soon if his breathing doesn't improve. His system is under a lot of strain …"

Crap, I feel sick all over again … almost positive I'm getting an ulcer.

"Just tell me he's going to be okay doc!"

"I'm sorry detective … but his condition is very serious … at this stage I can't make any promises."

"Well then, what are his chances?"

I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

"I'd say at this point … 50/50 … I'm afraid the mortality rate for pneumonia is very high, even under the best medical care … I'm really sorry."

I sit down hard in the chair next to his bed. Shit Dean … just hold on kid … this isn't over. That bad feeling is still hanging over me and my hunter's instinct tells me there's more to this then meets the eye. There's only one way to find out for sure …

"When can I see Sam?"

"As I said, he's still resting, he'll probably be out of it for a while …"

I need to see Sam, something's changed since I left … the air feels thicker … god, I hope we aren't up against a reaper … it would explain the boy's sudden reactions, but how do I explain that to the doc … a reaper trying to take a soul isn't exactly a medical condition? She puts her hand on my shoulder.

"…you can see him as soon as he regains consciousness."

I just nod my head, my smile relaying my thanks as she leaves me alone again with Dean. I look at his pale, clammy face. He looks so … frail. The word just doesn't seem to fit, shouldn't be associated with the 'larger than life' Dean Winchester that I know.

He's connected to so much gadgetry it's almost hard to find a place on his body that hasn't got some sort of tube or wire protruding from it. His breath is still coming in short rasps, his body shaking ever so slightly from the fever raging through it. Even heavily sedated, worry is etched in every frown line on his face. I try to smooth those lines as I run my hand soothingly across his clammy brow.

"What it is kiddo? What has you so spooked?"

I sit with him for a while, hoping that a familiar presence will help to calm him … it doesn't. I watch as the medical staff work around him, while I try to ignore the sad looks they send my way. They don't think Dean is going to make it, but they don't know him. He's a fighter … he won't die … he won't!

I only get up to leave when the optologist finishes his check up and begins removing the bandages from Dean's eyes. He seems pleased that the swelling has come down so dramatically, but looking at the kids face it's hard to see what he's so pleased about. His eyelids still look puffy and red, if I didn't know any better, I would've guessed he got sucker punched. I've never seen him looking this bad. The doc begins to add more ointment and then covers Dean's eyes with a cool, damp cloth. I can't help but lean in to whisper a few words of encouragement into his ear … I'm sure he can hear me …

"You're going to be okay Dean … you hear me son … you're going to be okay!"

My only reply is a soft gurgling sound before he weakly starts coughing, more bloody mucus staining his lips as the physiotherapist moves in to help him. That uneasiness pulls at my gut again, the haunting image follows me as I make my way to Sam's room.

I stop to make a quick call to Ellen … giving her the rundown … I need to bounce a few of my theories off her …

"Bobby, I don't know what to tell you … if it is a reaper like you suspect, there's nothing we can do … we can't kill death."

"I know … but I just can't believe that their time is up, not yet, there's so much left for them to do. Sam's been working so hard to find a way to save Dean, it just can't end like this. I'm not even sure if this thing is after one or both of them, hell … I'm not even positive it is a reaper. I can just sense a serious darkness every time I walk into their rooms. I'm telling you Ellen, it's downright freaky. One things for certain though, even if I don't know how to stop it, I'm sure as hell going to delay it's plans."

"Okay, just keep a close eye on them, and let me know as soon as there's a change. And Bobby, just so you know, my prayers are with you and those boys."

Walking into Sam's room, I wait until the nurse leaves before I take out the small pouch of blessed rice I keep in my jacket pocket, for emergencies, and start sprinkling some in rough loop around his room to create an ancient form of a Mandala or protective enclosure. The kid is still out for the count as I settle into a chair next to him. I have pockets full of small and mystical artifacts, you never know when you're going to need them. I place a blessed Tibetan protection cord around Sam's wrist, and a silver cross around his neck. I finish by sprinkling a few more grains of rice next to his shoulder, snorting in amusement as I imagine the look on the cleaning staff's faces, before I quietly start reciting a powerful incantation that I learnt from a monk in Tibet.

It's the strongest form of protection against the forces of darkness that I know.

Satisfied that I've cleansed the room of any evil supernatural beings, I return my attention back to Sam … he seems a little more relaxed, but it could be my imagination. I make a mental note to do the same in Dean's room once he's left alone long enough for me to perform the ritual.

"Sam, I swear the two of you are going to be the death of me. What the hell am I supposed to do? You're lying here sick as a dog, and you're brother is just as bad, if not worse. What happened Sam? Why are you so stressed out?"

The kid nearly scares the shit out of me when he suddenly calls Dean's name. His brow furrowing in a similar manner to Dean's. They're fretting over each other, making themselves sick with worry … and an idea suddenly forms, it's a long shot, but it's worth a try.

I hunt down Doctor Miller, she's checking a patient's chart at the nurse's desk. I don't hold much hope that she'll agree to my idea as I start talking to her, relaying my concerns.

"Doc, I know this isn't normal procedure, but could we put Sam in Dean's room? And before you start wrapping me up in all that red tape, those boys aren't getting any better. I know it sounds crazy, but I think putting them together may actually help."

I'm expecting one hellava argument, but instead her tired eyes lock with mine and she slowly nods her head.

"Okay detective, I don't see the harm … I'll organize for him to be moved."

I'm ready to argue the merits of having the boys in the same room when I realize that she's actually just agreed with me. My eyebrows rise in astonishment, my mouth opening and closing in shocked surprise.

She chuckles at my expression. I grin back. Lord that was easy … wish everything would run this smoothly. She immediately organizes Sam to be set up in Dean's room as I make my way over to check on Dean again. My concern for him is justified … he hasn't improved, he's just steadily getting worse. His temperature has risen to an alarming 102° and his lungs continue to rattle painfully in his heaving chest.

"Sam … need … Sam …"

Shit Dean, wish I knew how to make this better … you shouldn't be here kid. I take a hanky out of my pocket and noisily blow my nose … damn kids are breaking my old heart. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder again.

"He's on his way Dean … Sam will be here any minute … just hold tight."

I'm not sure if he can hear me, but I keep giving him whispered assurances as they work around us. It takes them forty minutes, but they manage to set Sam up comfortably in Dean's room … the two of them look like some science experiment gone wrong … I snort as I imagine a mad doctor trying to give life to his two weird creations, lightning flashing ... instead of that irritating neon light bulb, that instantly flickers, then stops. Dean would find it hysterical, he loves those old cheesy movies … got to remember to tell him when he wakes up.

Something's niggling me at the back of my mind. The doc checks their charts again and I watch in silent astonishment as both boys seem to settle, it's like they know they're together. The bond between these two scares me sometimes, but even more so when Sam, who was dead to the world just a few minutes ago, slowly opens his eyes.

_**TBC ;0)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – enjoy ;0)**

**Note:** This is the final chapter of this story, to be continued in my 'companion piece' version of the Season 3 finale … "Saving my soul tonight". I seriously contemplated just carrying on from here, but the format is slightly different, jumping back into the past to explain the prophecy, the hunters plan, and eventually to the final showdown and how Dean will hurt Sam (grins evilly) - but all those loose ends will be tied up there, I promise ;0)

Thanks as always for the fantabulously awesome reviews, they're always appreciated! ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Sammy's POV**

* * *

Fear. It's like a blanket around my soul. It has such a tight hold on me I can hardly breathe. I have no idea how long I've been here, in this dark place, but the only person on my mind is Dean … god I need him. I need him to get me out of here, wherever here is. I reach out but there's nothing, just empty black space and the endless terror that lurks in those dark recesses. I'm too scared to move, I can't see anything. I call out, hoping to hear something, anything, but deep down I know I'm alone. Can feel it. Please Dean, find me … please. I can't even chuckle at how silly I sound, I've never been so terrified in all my life. I'm alone and Dean's not with me … this is what hell must be like. 

I need to get a grip, need to find a way out of this black pit of despair, but another fear rears it's ugly head, if Dean's not here, where is he? I remember a fire … and as the thought enters my mind, fire suddenly surround me, licking at my feet. I almost scramble away until I realize that it's not hot, there's no heat as I wave my hand cautiously over the orange flames. In my subconscious I know this is just a dream, it's not real … so I take a steadying breath … the fire quickly dies down. That's better. There was a fire, Dean was hurt … oh shit … he was dying … a reaper? Panic grips me again and the flames flare up. A reaper was after Dean, I need to get out of here, warn someone, I need to wake up … but I can't. I watch as the flames dance around me, but it's the dark figure that comes out of those flames that nearly scares the shit out of me.

"Sammy Winchester."

The person in front of me is tall, with a long leather coat … he looks like one of those old gunslingers from back in the days of the Wild West.

"Who are you?"

I already know he's not human, probably a demon, but what the hell does he want with me … am I dead?

"You and your brother are so alike ..."

He chuckles, it's not a pleasant sound.

"Where's Dean, what have you done with him? If you've hurt him, I'm gonna …"

"You're going to what Sam? Kill me? Too late for that kiddo! You Winchesters are all the same, so arrogant, thinking you can just kill the likes of me, well let me tell you something kid, many have tried, but I'm still here ... they're not. I'm not stupid, I have my eye on the prize and I don't make mistakes!"

His eyes suddenly change into blazing red orbs.

"But I didn't come here to argue, I just came to give you a warning."

"What the hell are you talking about, what prize and why are you trying to help me?"

He laughs.

"I'm not trying to help you boy … I just want you to accept … even come to terms with the fact that your brother is going to die, one way or another. Don't look at me like that, you know deep down that what I'm saying is true. Just wanted to get it through your thick skull, Dean is going to hell … for you … dying in your place. Let him go … it's what he agreed to, what he'd do again in a blink of an eye … stop trying to save him. Nothings going to save him Sam … nothing … unless …"

My heart is hammering in my chest.

"Unless what?"

He looks me over assessingly … a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. It's the scariest thing I've ever seen.

"Unless you interfere … but you wouldn't do that to your brother would you? I mean that would just kill him. He can't live without you, that would be the worst kind of betrayal you could lay on him … but you Sam, you're strong, you can live without Dean, carry on with the good fight. Your faith and beliefs will get you through … you still believe in angels don't you?"

He's mocking me … I try to take a step forward but a sudden case of vertigo has me swaying … the flames encircling me are bright, but they're not giving off any light or heat, so I can't see the floor or ceiling … it's like those flames are floating in space, trapped in the darkness like me.

"Dean's not going to die … I'm going to find a way to save him … and I'll kill every last one you sons of bitches in the process!"

He chuckles again, shaking his head sadly.

"Boy, I do like your spunk … can see why old yella eyes thought you were so special … but I have it on good authority that there's nothing you can do … unless you take the place that was rightfully yours … but that ain't going to happen, is it now?"

He's right … deep down I know … even planned … if I can't find a way to save Dean, I could never let him take my place. I bend my head, I can't look this creature in the eye, my voice just barely above a whisper …

"So how do I prevent it, how do I save Dean?"

"I don't need to tell you Sammy … you already know."

His laughter follows him as he slowly disappears back into the darkness. But as he disappears so does the memory of our encounter … I'm just left with a heavy burden … fear … and the feeling that there's something I need to do …

I'm losing my way in the darkness again when I suddenly feel a strange warmth, it starts off small, radiating from my chest, slowly growing, surrounding me like a light … and I can hear Bobby's voice … it sounds so far away, but I follow the sound until I have the strength to open my weary eyes.

"Sam?"

I look into Bobby's concerned face, he's leaning over me, trying to see if I'm awake.

"Bob…by?"

"Yeah kiddo, shit you boys are making me grey … how ya feeling?"

"Tired."

He chuckles, gently squeezing my shoulder.

"You have a visitor …"

I want to tell him that I really am not up to seeing Mrs. Harris again as I tentatively turn my head, but instead I blink a few times … Dean is lying next to me, so close I can reach over and touch him and tears instantly blur my vision.

I look back at Bobby, scared that I'm hallucinating, but he just nod's his head.

"Being a detective with friends in high places can be very beneficial."

He snorts at my confused expression as I turn to look at Dean again. Shit, he looks worse than I imagined. He's battling to breathe, straining to inhale as air noisily passes in and out of his lungs. He's breathing way too fast. My happiness at seeing him is instantly replaced with _fear_ … god please don't let me lose him.

I try to shift, but my body aches in places that shouldn't be sore. Bobby immediately puts a hand on my chest.

"Sam, don't try to move, don't want you to tear your stitches open again … just take it easy for a second while I go call the doc."

The no-nonsense look in his eyes has me lying still until Doctor Miller has finished her check up, she looks down at me with a pleased expression on her face.

"You're doing just fine Sam … your stitches aren't bleeding, there's no infection, you should be up and about in a few weeks."

A few weeks? Shit, I don't have a few weeks. I look at Bobby, he can see the desperation in my eyes, but he gives me that look. The one that says we'll be out of here before then. I visibly relax.

Doctor Miller pulls Bobby aside, and I strain to hear what they're saying … if it has something to do with Dean, I want to know.

"Detective, I don't know how to tell you this, but it seems that a few of our patients have been robbed. We have a security team investigating as we speak … but it looks like they took some of Sam's personal possessions as well."

Bobby looks over at me worriedly, he knows I heard. I can't believe this. SHIT! The wallets, cell phones, fake insurance cards, those can all be replaced … but Dean's amulet and my watch … those things have serious sentimental value … Shit! Shit! Shit! … Dean is going to be so pissed.

I look over at him again … the oxygen mask and cloth over his eyes are obscuring his face but I can still see a fine sheen of perspiration all over his body. He has a fever. I'm losing him, I can sense it … feels almost as if I've just walked into a battle and my opponent is death … while the prize is Dean's life. But I'm not going to let him go … I refuse to let him die.

I try moving again, turning carefully, lying gingerly on my good side. I reach over, moving slowly until I'm comfortable enough to hold Dean's wrist firmly in my hand. There's very little space between our beds as my hand rests on Dean's mattress. I can feel his heartbeat thrumming unevenly under my fingertips but I need to have that connection between us. I want him to know that I'm here.

"Dean? Hey. Doc tells me … you doing just great."

I'm lying but I need him to believe that he's going to be okay.

"Need you to wake up bro. You're really worrying the shit out of me and Bobby."

Nothing ... so I resort to bribery.

"If you wake up I'll sneak in the biggest burger and fries that you can manage … with a side order of onion rings … I won't even bitch. Besides the food here really sucks, it comes in a packet which they feed directly into your vein, it's doing nothing for my appetite …"

His face is so still I have to keep checking the rapid rise and fall of his chest to make sure he's still alive.

"… please Dean."

I've been living with the constant fear that he's going die … that it's inevitable, but I don't want to live in a world without Dean. Ruby said she had a way to possibly get him out of the crossroads deal, but I'm beginning to wander if it wasn't all just BS.

I can't reason with Dean either, he just brushes off his fears under a load of smart ass remarks, like his life isn't worth a damn, and it's killing me … just as surely as it killed him to see me die in his arms. Even though he tries to hide it, I see it in his eyes daily, it still haunts him. He couldn't let me go, so how does he expect me to do the same?

"Please Dean … please don't die."

Bobby comes over to stand next to me again. I'm so tired, but I just can't sleep, and Bobby knows it.

"He's going to be okay Sam … just keep believing that."

He leaves to get some supplies, but not before he promises me that he'll follow up on the investigation. I know he's angry … he becomes like a mother bear with her cubs when it comes to Dean and I. I can only smile as he gently brushes my bangs out of my eyes. He also says that he wants to cleanse our room with a powerful Tibetan incantation, he's been feeling uneasy, like something evil is watching us, I feel the same way.

I'm rubbing soothing circles on Dean's wrist. I know it seems stupid but I just can't let go, it's like I'm his lifeline and I'm too scared to break our contact. When I do sleep, it's with my hand on his wrist. I lie awake watching him breathe with my hand on his wrist, rubbing my thumb gently over his erratic pulse. Just that constant motion is calming my own frayed nerves. At some level Dean must be feeling it too, because his breathing seems less strained.

Heat still radiates off him as I watch the nurse sponge him down. His lips are moving, but no sound is coming out. I don't need to read them to make out what he keeps repeating in his delirium. He's calling my name over and over again and it brings more tears to my eyes. My strong big brother is still in protector mode, still always looking out for me and worrying. God I love him, I've never told him out loud, but he knows … he has to. How am I supposed to live the rest of my life without him? Just the thought leaves me with a cold and aching emptiness. I can't even begin to imagine what my life will be like without him. He's more than my brother, he's my best friend.

"… Sam … my …"

It's so soft, that I barely hear it but my heart starts racing. I automatically squeeze his wrist again, still held firmly in my hand.

"I'm here Dean, I'm here … just wake up …"

His breathing quickens and I immediately begin to worry … he's frowning like he's in pain. I look around, but we're alone, nobody's close at hand to help me.

"Dean?"

His breath suddenly hitches as he starts shaking … oh god he's dying … it's happening … I try yell for a nurse but suddenly I'm pinned down … can't move, can't breathe ... can't make a sound. I forcefully turn my head to look at Dean with wide eyed horror … god … he's also pinned down, I can see him battling to inhale against the invisible force holding us. Whatever it is, it's killing him, it's killing me.

A dark form flickers out of the corner of my eye … it's standing between us … it takes the hazy shape of a man, wearing what looks like a long coat. Both his arms are outstretched … one hand on my chest, the other on Deans. Pushing us down. Dean is wheezing, back arching slightly as blood runs down his chin. I try to fight, need to help Dean but my body feels like it's on fire. Shit, we're going to die, whatever this thing is it's going to kill us and I can't do anything. The instruments next to our beds start beeping in alarm, the neon light overhead flickering … I'm just about to lose consciousness when I hear a strangely familiar voice …

"Today's your lucky day boys!"

There's an intense searing pain … I think I black out for a moment … but when I open my eyes again, I'm surrounded by medical staff. I immediately look over at Dean, he's also surrounded by medical staff. I push myself up …

"DEAN?"

Hands are holding me … I push at them again …

"DEAN? Is he okay? Is he even alive?"

"Sammy?"

I fall back in shock … my body trembling.

"Dean?"

The nurse blocking my view finally moves out the way and I look into my brothers green eyes. Tears immediately start running down my cheeks … I can't believe what I'm seeing … please, please tell me this is real.

"Sammy … you okay?"

I can see the concern in his face. He's still pale, his eye's red rimmed but no longer puffy, the bluish tint has left his lips and his breathing … on his own … no rattling, no coughing, no blood … hell he's even talking? I stare at him in shock. How is this possible … he was … dying?

"Sammy?"

"Dean … I can't believe it … what just happened?"

He doesn't get a chance to answer as he gets wheeled out, they're taking him down to radiology, they want to run tests. Bobby is suddenly rushing into the room, he looks at me in mirrored shock.

"Sam, what the hell is going on? I just saw the doc … she says Dean woke up and they're running some tests … apparently he's just made a miraculous recovery?"

"Bobby … I don't know … I just don't know … the last thing I remember was you going out to fetch supplies … everything else is a blank."

He moves over to me, a frown plastered on his face.

"Something wrong Sam … I just know it … this ain't natural … whatever just happened has something to do with some seriously powerful evil. I could feel it ... shit! the flickering lights, knew it reminded me of something…"

He gives me a stern look.

"...boy, just tell me you didn't do anything stupid!"

I know what he's thinking, but I shake my head. Bobby huffs in relief.

"Shit, this is bad … I mean it's good that Dean's alive and well ... but how in hell are we going to explain this?"

"A faith healer?"

Bobby chuckles.

"Smart ass! Just give me a couple of hours, I'll think of something."

I don't know how this happened, or why … but I just can't muster up the will to care … all that matters is that Dean's alive … I grin.

An hour later they wheel him back in. Dean wasn't the only one subjected to tests. I've been poked and prodded non stop for the last hour. Apparently I'm just as miraculous as Dean. The tear in my spleen has almost completely healed. The doc says at this rate I'll be up and about in a few days. But Dean's results have everyone baffled. His lungs show no sign of pneumonia, the burn on his back is healing quicker than normal and there is no damage to his eyes. The optologists says that he'll be sensitive to light for a while, but he'll make a full recovery.

Bobby did some research, and apparently every now and then a medical mystery pops up. People who had cancer one day, are suddenly cancer free the next. He says that there are a few isolated cases where doctors just cannot explain medically or otherwise how a patient has suddenly become healthy after being deathly sick. He's trying to sell this idea to Doctor Miller … she doesn't seem convinced, but she also can't explain it … so now it has officially become a medical miracle. Doctors and pre-med students have been flocking in and out to see the wonder of Dean and Sam Wayne, while Bobby's been making plans to get us out of the hospital and into a hotel for the rest of our recovery, before we start attracting any more attention to ourselves.

Dean gets back to his usual self, flirting with the nurses, bitching about the food and even signing a few autographs for some med students. I chuckle … just happy to have him back. He's eating his second plate of green jello with custard, but I can see the tiredness in his eyes.

"Dean, I think you should get some rest … you look like crap."

"Right back at ya bro … have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Your hair looks like one of Tina Turner's wigs."

I snort.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

I watch him slurp the last of the jello straight out of the bowl, wrinkling my nose in disgust. I have to tell him, but I don't know how, maybe I should just blurt it out. He tiredly slides down to lay back on his pillow, turning slightly to look at me.

"What?"

"Dean … I've got some bad new …we were robbed. The hospital security are investigating, but apparently a few people have lost their possessions after being brought into ICU. They say they'll compensate us … but Dean … it's your amulet, and my watch."

"Shit Sammy …"

The flash of sadness in his eyes nearly breaks my heart.

"… have they got any leads?"

"Not yet, but I promise you, we'll find the sonnavabitch who did this … Bobby's already investigating this one dude, an orderly, he seems to have disappeared since the investigation started …"

I can see the disappointment in Dean's face, he loves that amulet … never takes it off he can help it … said it was the best gift he'd ever received, and I know it was mostly because it came from me. I feel the same way about my watch … but I'm determined to find it, I won't let some asshole take what little we have, take those memories …

We sit in silence for a while, and finally Dean whispers the question I've been dreading.

"Sammy, do you have any idea what the hell just happened dude? I mean how did I make a full recovery? According to the doc I was at deaths door."

He looks over at me, I can see the wariness in his eyes. He's scared. He thinks I had something to do with it.

"Dean … I promise you … I don't know … I can't remember anything. Only that Bobby and I both felt a presence. At first I thought it was a reaper … but why would a reaper give back your life, instead of taking it? Bobby has a few theories, but non of them make any sense. He's pretty convinced it was some kind of demon but if it was something evil, then you and I would be dead right now."

He nods his head tiredly.

"It strange ya know … I feel great, even though I'm tired as hell … but at the same time I can feel that this is bad … this is so bad Sammy … and there's going to be consequences, I just know it!"

I reach out again to squeeze his wrist.

He doesn't pull away, just looks at me in silent despair.

"We'll find out Dean. Together, we'll find out what happened and why … and we'll fix this … I promise!"

"Yeah."

He sighs tiredly and I watch as his heavy eyelids finally close as he falls asleep. He's still so exhausted, even though he's just about healed, the ordeal drained him. I'll let him rest for a couple of hours, then Bobby will take us to the nearest motel where we can regroup and give Dean a couple of extra days to regain his strength. Need to get as many miles away from this place as we can, until Sam and Dean Wayne become a distant memory.

We've been given another reprieve, by some unexplainable miracle. I have my brother back, but for how long? And how much more of this crap do we have to take? I can't live like this but I'll still endure it, if only to give me one more day with Dean. I've finally realized something … I'm going to have to make the difference. I know deep down that neither Bela, Ruby, not even Bobby or Ellen can help … I have to do this … have to convince Dean that he needs to fight, stay alive, I won't accept anything less. My resolve is suddenly firmer than it's ever been, strong in the knowledge that Dean's survival depends solely on me. I've been wasting my time with demons and research, prayers and beliefs, it's got me nowhere … and all this time Dean's clock has been ticking away. I could kick myself.

I watch his even breaths for a while as he sinks further into sleep. My own eyes are starting to feel heavy.

There's a darkness surrounding me … _fear_ … I've never been so scared in all my life. I don't know why I suddenly feel like this, but I'm not scared for myself …

I replay all the arguments we've had over the last few months. They're usually about the same thing. Dean said that if I messed with the deal, in any way, I'd just drop down dead. He took it upon himself to be my savior … I didn't want that, and I can't accept it … but I know something now … I've known it for a while … and it changes everything …

There is no hope … just a life that's not worth living, a life filled with death and _fear_. I should be more like Dean … he had the world figured out the day he joined dad on his first hunt. No good can survive … just different levels of evil. Some people kill, others steal, they all just take things they have no right to take. Besides, how can there be any good left, if a man can give up his soul, his life, his hopes and dreams … selflessly … how can there be any good if he's punished by death and hellfire?

I do know something now that changes everything … I shouldn't be here, wasn't meant to be here. Like Dean said, "what's dead should stay dead". I was dead for the better part of a day ... not on life support and no chance of resuscitation … just dead. He would tear me a new one if he could read my mind, and I feel guilty as hell for even thinking it, breaking a promise, breaking his heart … but messing with the natural course of things has only led to death and destruction. I can change things though, change things back to the way they were supposed to be … I won't let Dean die. I love him too much to resign him to that fate. It will come at a price, one condition, but on my terms … it's me they're after, I'm the 'chosen one' … the yellow eyed demon's pet project … and I'll hand myself over on a silver platter. That day is only a few weeks away and I'll make the most of our time left together. And when it does come, I'll just ask for one thing in return when I take my brothers place, damning my soul … just one thing … that Dean looses all memory of me. It's the only way to save him from himself and the soul destroying pain he will feel.

I watch him sleeping until my own eyes finally close in exhaustion. I'm sorry Dean.

My big brother was right, he was always right. I have to face facts, there aren't any angels, and they won't save us and neither will prayers... but so help me, I'll save Dean.

_**Fin ;0)**_

_To be continued in my version of the Season 3 finale … "Saving my soul tonight"_


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